


You're my laundry love

by tinypeckers



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, also brief mentions of york, carolina - Freeform, etc - Freeform, wyoming - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypeckers/pseuds/tinypeckers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wash is doing laundry when he is caught off guard by someone who both intimidates and arouses him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're my laundry love

**Author's Note:**

> RED VS WHO? Is this 2kficteen's first RVB? No. No it isn't. It's the second but it can claim something just as cool. It's a saturday fic.
> 
> Anyway, prompt me at the following addresses:  
> tinypeckers.tumblr.com  
> 2kficteen.tumbr.com

Laundry was not Washington’s main priority. Climbing the leader board, feeding himself and petting the stray cats that somehow managed to find their way into the base were higher priorities. They were simply such crafty, cute and cuddly animals and that alone took up more time that Wash was not ready to spend on _laundry_ of all things. Yet there came a time when his armour began to smell more like a garbage truck than something designed to protect a soldier that Wash realised that he had to succumb to the responsibility. It wasn’t that Wash didn’t know how to do it because he’d lived alone for a few years before the freelancer life and so yes, he knew how to do it. It was that Wash was focused on other things and they were way more important than the cleanliness of what he was wearing.

 

 

Sometimes when Wash couldn’t be bothered to do laundry himself, he often decided to bother the other freelancers and see if they would do it for him. Florida was usually his first stop, the kind and gentle soul so eager to please and to help. Except today Wash had seen him get pulled aside for some ‘secret’ training and knew that he wouldn’t be available to do it for him. That left Wash with very little options. North was also very willing to help but Wash had heard of South’s most recent tantrum and assumed that North would want to check in on her. Carolina was a no go; she lived in the training room and relied on North and Florida as much as Wash did. He couldn’t think of anyone else who was not busy or didn’t intimidate him. Wash realised that for once, he was on his own for this.

 

 

The laundry room was empty as Wash had expected. There was only one other machine going but he ignored it. Wash decided to clean everything. He had been wearing some sweatpants and a t-shirt but he decided that they needed to be washed as well. He found himself simply standing there in his briefs and the white wife-beater shirt he’d opted to wear underneath his clothes. It was cold but he knew that they were getting clean and that was all that really mattered. Wash wished that he had opted to wear socks at least. He used all of the strength that he hadn’t used in the day’s training to lift his laundry up and then dump it inside the washing machine. Wash could not be bothered to put the basket back down and instead he let it drop to the floor. Luckily it was only a cheap pop-up fabric piece of crap. The director did not splurge on things that did not add any value to his soldier’s training. He pressed a few buttons to start the machin.

 

 

With that simple task accomplished, Wash realised that he couldn’t leave. The last time that he had done that he had returned to pink briefs and a beautiful bright yellow shirt. He’d been ridiculed for weeks. Wash chewed upon his lip as he looked for things to do. He should have thought this through and brought his phone or someone else’s phone. They were usually more fun to play with and snoop around on. Last time he’d found York’s nudes stashed under random pictures of Carolina training. Wash had never been able to erase those horrendous images from his mind. He would admit that York had been rather well hung. Wash had sent a couple of them to his own phone for safe keeping and blackmail, of course. They were buried under a few other images that Wash had downloaded from the internet of some particularly muscled men… to throw people off of the scent? Wash hadn’t decided on his excuse just yet.

 

 

Distracted by his thoughts, Wash didn’t notice someone else entering the room. He paid them no mind as they wandered over to the washing machine that had been rushing since before Wash had entered. He did not hear them open it but he did hear their surprised grunt when they pulled out their clothes. Wash turned and almost jumped out of skin. There, standing without his helmet, was Maine. He both intimidated and aroused Wash at the best of times but this, well this was a whole new ball game.

 

 

It seemed that Maine had had the same idea as Wash. He stood wearing boxers and no undershirt because really who needed one when his guns were twice the size of his head. Wash stood no chance against such a beautiful specimen such as Maine. Wash couldn’t help but squeak in surprise when Maine turned his eyes onto him. Then that squeak turned into laughter when Wash saw exactly what Maine was holding. It was a pair of briefs that were quite clearly smaller than anything that Maine could fit into and they were so garishly green that they almost resembled fungus.

“Ah,” Wash giggled as Maine stared blankly back at him, “they’ve got you too.” Wash smiled. One of Maine’s eyebrows rose and he continued to stare.

 

 

“It was probably Wyoming, his knock-knock jokes have evolved into harmless pranks although really, those pants are quite harmful to my eyes.” Wash said. Maine sighed heavily and looked away from Wash only to stare at his ruined underwear. “Did you put it all in there?” Wash dared to ask. He shimmied over to the other man and smiled warmly up at him. Maine shook his head and pointed to the other half of his washing, lying innocently into a pop-up laundry bag similar to Wash’s own.

“Did you do your washing yourself?” Wash asked because he had to, Maine didn’t seem the type of guy to know how to separate things. Maine shook his head. Of course, Wash had been right.

“Did Florida do it for you?” Wash pressed. Maine nodded. “Do you know how to do the rest?” Wash continued. With every question he inched closer to his man crush.

 

 

They were currently standing mere centimetres apart. Wash could feel the hair from Maine’s arm brushing against his own.

“Would you like me to help you with it? I promise that I won’t abandon your clothes like Florida did.” Wash offered. It was a kind, selfless act he tried to convince himself as he sidled up to Maine and put himself between the dryer and that fine body. Maine didn’t protest and so Wash started to take out his clean laundry. He had nowhere to put it but with the dirty laundry so he reluctantly left the almost embrace of Maine and went to his own basket.

“This one is mine but you can borrow it.” Wash said as he started to push Maine’s clothes into it. He dragged the basket over. He made himself at home once more between Maine and the driver.

“Maybe we can do this together from now on? Then neither of us will suffer from Wyoming’s attacks.” Wash hummed as he started to load the washing machine.

 

 

Maine shifted and leaned over Wash and thus pressed himself impossibly closer to the other man. Wash swallowed. Clearly Maine was only getting a closer look so that he could learn what to do but Wash’s thoughts weren’t pure at all. Maine grunted and to Wash it sounded like he was agreeing with Wash. Suddenly, laundry didn’t seem so bad at all. Especially if Maine insisted on learning in a manner similar to how he was now. Wash could only wish that the next time they met up they both had the same idea again and Wash got to see more of that delicious, wonderful body.


End file.
